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 his right arm, his progress almost into the very jaws of the swift-moving buses and motors was so arrogant, so inhumanly cool, as to be sublime.

Oddly enough the thing which really fixed the eyes of the two spectators was the umbrella with the ivory crook. It hung so negligently from the arm of the great man that just as he was about to put off to the farther shore it threatened to drop from its perch. With a quick motion Saul Hartz re-grappled it to his arm.

Helen and George Hierons, their eyes and thoughts in the spell of a single image, halted for nearly a minute, yet without speaking a word, to watch the Colossus cross the wide road and enter the hotel. Still without speaking, but with an unforgettable picture in their minds, they resumed their walk as far as the corner of Dover Street.

"Thank you for bearing with me so far," said Helen offering her hand.

"Won't you come and have lunch somewhere?" said Hierons.

Helen declined the invitaion. She frankly owned that food was very far from her thoughts just now.

Both were suffering. The American kept Helen's hand a moment in his own. "I shall be at my hotel," he said, "for at least another week. You have only to communicate with me at any time and I will come to you at once—if there is any chance of my being of the slightest use."